


Lucky Number

by aphelant



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphelant/pseuds/aphelant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not going to break me to pay for your meal, Archie," and just cups the back of his neck with one of his big warm hands. It's friendly and comfortable, but something deep in Archie's gut shivers like it's trying to break free and he stammers out something like, "Uh -- I guess that's, um. Fine," that makes Cook smile, and even though everyone can see it, Archie feels like it's meant just for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Number

**Author's Note:**

> beta by general_jinjur, emotional support by abbylee

It's the first time Archie has seen Cook in months, and Cook has got them reservations at some up-scale restaurant Archie can't even pronounce the name of. Archie thinks he'll feel awkward and out of place at their posh table surrounded by famous guests, but Cook's familiar presence puts him at ease.

Cook makes him laugh most of the night by telling him stories about his tour and his band, and he has a whole bunch of new and horrible jokes he's found on the internet. It's just like every other meal they've shared together -- during Idol, on tour, just hanging out, whenever -- which is a huge relief.

Archie had worried that maybe something would change during the long months apart, that maybe Cook would wake up one morning and realize that Archie isn't very interesting, and he isn't all that funny, and that Cook would decide he doesn't want to waste his time hanging out with someone as uncool as Archie. But it's all exactly the same as Archie remembers, as he had hoped it would be, except for the part where the meal is over and Cook is paying for both of them.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Archie tries, but Cook says, "It's not going to break me to pay for your meal, Archie," and just cups the back of his neck with one of his big warm hands. It's friendly and comfortable, but something deep in Archie's gut shivers like it's trying to break free and he stammers out something like, "Uh -- I guess that's, um. Fine," that makes Cook smile, and even though everyone can see it, Archie feels like it's meant just for him.

Cook drives him home and insists on walking Archie to his door. "There could be fans in the bushes, you know," he says, "waiting for you to come home so they can get your autograph."

Archie glances at the foliage and replies, "Nobody hides in hibiscus, there's not enough leaf-cover." Cook laughs and shakes his head.

"Fine, then maybe they're hiding around the corner, huh? Or in the stairwell?"

"There's nobody hiding in or around my building, Cook," Archie argues, except now that the topic has been brought up he can't help but eye the shadows warily. Maybe his dad is right, and instead of buying a condo he should have invested in a house with a fence. A high fence, an advanced anti-incursion security system, and a few bodyguards.

"Um, but let's take the elevator, okay?" he says, and pushes the call button. While they wait they chat about the building's architecture and design motif, neither of which Archie knows much about, but he doesn't mind learning about it, especially when it's Cook teaching him.

Soon enough the elevator dings its arrival and Cook ushers Archie ahead with a hand on the small of his back. Archie shivers. It's cold in the elevator, and Cook surprised him, and that's all there is to it.

"What floor?" Cook asks, his index finger hovering over the array of unlit numbers.

"Um," Archie says. Cook still has a hand on Archie's back, and the way Cook has herded Archie into the elevator makes him feel penned in by Cook's hips and shoulders, but he reminds himself that Cook's personal bubble is less _ex_clusionary than _in_clusionary and that this is all completely normal. "Four. I mean -- I mean, fourth."

"Cool," Cook says, and pushes the button. "Good floor. Four's lucky, you know." The elevator is one of those fast ones that make your stomach dip whenever it starts up, but Archie barely notices it this time, what with all of the terrifying heart-pounding and palm-sweating that he's doing already.

"It is?" he asks dumbly.

"Sure," Cook says. "Like clovers, right?"

"Wait," Archie says, frowning, "is this a real thing, or something you've made up just now?"

Cook laughs, one of his really happy ones. Archie can't help but notice the laugh lines in the corners of Cook's eyes -- they're _right there_, after all -- and the urge to reach up and press his thumbs to them, one on each side so he can hold Cook's laugh in his hands, is so strong he barely resists it.

"You know, I'm not entirely sure," Cook says, and the way he tilts his head down makes Archie think that maybe -- that maybe he's going to --

When the elevator finally, _finally_ stops, Archie practically launches himself out into the hallway, and of course Cook laughs then, all easy camaraderie with a hand to his elbow, steadying.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks. "You in a rush or something?"

Cook's expression isn't as carefree as it had been just moments ago, and Archie hates himself a little for turning it even the least bit serious.

"No, no rush, just, you know, claustrophobia or something. Small spaces?"

"Sure," Cook says, but he doesn't look convinced. His hand is still on Archie's elbow and he rubs his thumb reassuringly against the soft skin on the inside of it. "So, which way?"

Archie wants to say something like, "I'm pretty sure no one will attack me between here and my door," or maybe, "Oh, I'm the third door on the right," or even, "I can't think when you're touching me like this," but his tongue doesn't seem to want to co-operate so he just pulls Cook along, elbow to hand, until they've arrived at Archie's door.

He turns to face Cook, wanting to say goodnight but not knowing how to make it not-awkward now that he's gone and weirded up the mood, but Cook is standing way closer to him than he expected, and Archie takes a stumbling step backwards.

Cook glances above Archie's head and takes a -- much steadier -- step closer. "Four dash seven, huh?" Cook says, and takes another step toward him. Archie gives up the ground, but Cook keeps advancing until Archie's backed himself against his own front door. "Seven is lucky too, you know."

"I --" Archie says, and hearing how breathless he sounds makes him shudder. "I know. That one's real, for sure." Cook laughs, like he always does, except this time they're pressed so close together that Archie can feel Cook's laugh right in his own chest.

"Archie," Cook says. "Archie, I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

"Gosh," Archie hears himself saying, and Cook's beard rasps against Archie's chin when their lips meet.

Considering how few times he's had a moment like this, it isn't even the kiss that Archie is paying attention to the most. Instead it's Cook's hand stroking from his elbow up his arm to his collarbone, and then snaking around the back of his neck to tilt his head in a different, better angle. It's Cook's other hand finding his hip and then rediscovering his lower back.

Those two touches, familiar though they've been tonight, feel revelatory, and Archie tries to find more like them in the curve of Cook's bicep, the slope of his shoulder blade, the hidden places behind his ears. When Archie scrapes his fingers against Cook's scalp, Cook moans, right into Archie's mouth, and Archie thinks he would like to spend the rest of his life recreating that sound over and over again.

After a time, the kiss ends, and they take a minute to catch their breath, heads bent together, sharing the same air.

"So, um," Archie says, eventually, "I kind of hope you were wrong and there wasn't anyone hiding in the bushes, or in the stairwell or whatever, because, like, we kind of just made out against my front door, and then it would be all over TMZ before we even manage to get inside --"

Cook bursts out laughing, and it's pretty loud because their faces are so close together, but Archie likes the sound of it anyway.

"Seriously, _that's_ what you're thinking about right now? TMZ? Not..." and here he gestures vaguely between them, "...this?"

"I -- no? Not really. I just didn't know what else to say --"

Cook kisses him again, and Archie is a bit embarrassed to discover that he's been clutching at Cook's forearms.

Between kisses Cook asks, "So you _are_ thinking about this, right?"

Archie chokes on a laugh. "Well, yeah, you're kind of _right here_."

Cook pulls away just far enough to meet his eyes. "And if I _wasn't_ here?"

"I'd still be thinking about this," Archie assures him, then adds, "like always."

The pleased grin Cook gives him is worth the confession, and when Archie asks, "Do you want to come in? I've been practicing the guitar like you showed me, I could play for you?" it really is all exactly the same as he remembers, except for the part where Archie opens his door and Cook follows him in, kisses him and says, "Later. You can show me later."

"Okay," Archie agrees. "So, tomorrow?"

"Whenever," Cook replies. "We have plenty of time."

"Okay," Archie says again, and kisses Cook back.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: gosh


End file.
